As-yet untitled snippet about the True Love of Hermione Granger. Written for sociofemme who supplied the opening paragraph. I confess I changed one word and deleted one more.
ETA: I've now had time to think of a title: Sweet Mystery of Love
Hermione Granger was in love. She realised it at ten minutes of two o’clock Tuesday afternoon, which may seem an odd time to have a realisation of that nature, but there you have it.
At a quarter of two, she was sitting in the Common Room reading her History of Magic notes about the Goblin Rebellion. At ten of two, just as she was reviewing an account of the dismemberment of the Special Diplomatic Envoy to the goblins, a thought flashed into her mind and wouldn't go away.
George Weasley, it said. You're in love with George Weasley.
Hermione knew it would be useless to keep revising at this juncture. But she felt it was most inconvenient. She hadn't planned to be in love at least until next year and preferably not until she'd left school altogether.
And George? Not on the short list of candidates. But the more she thought about it, the more reasonable it seemed. He really was bright, even though he focused his intelligence in unsuitable areas. But she could perhaps gently direct him. He was nice, he was fit. All in all, not unthinkable. In fact, it was becoming more and more thinkable the more she thought about it.
She looked around the common room. There he was, whispering in a corner with Fred. Hermione never had any trouble telling them apart. But this did make her wonder why George and not Fred. Perhaps it was a Mystery of Love; she was given to understand it was somewhat capricious.
As she watched them, George looked up and smiled at her. Hermione felt her heart quicken and her insides give a great leap. Really, the physiological effects of love were strange. But pleasant. She smiled back and wondered if she should go over and strike up a conversation.
Then Fred and George rose and Fred made an announcement. "Demonstrating the very latest from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes -- Skiving Snackboxes." Hermione watched, bemused by the pleased look on George's face. She really was impressed by the things they invented. She thought she'd tell George so, afterwards. She felt a warm, tingly sensation as she looked at him. It did seem to be love.
George took a bite out of a small striped chew and vomited copiously and noisily into a bucket.
Or possibly it was just a passing crush. Hermione gathered up her things and went to the library to study.